Page 52 of Nyall

Now he understood why Caroline Parish had moved to reside on the islet.

“You dinnae even ken what I fight.” Nor had he any intention of telling Connal that. “My lord, if you truly wish help me, then trust in me. I ken what’s best, now and in the future.”

For a moment the laird looked as if he might press him, but then nodded and glanced back at his wife with a smile. “If I may climb those ridges again without swooning, I must accompany my lady. I shall see you back at Dun Ard, then.”

Shaw watched him go, and waved farewell to Lady Valerie before he walked back toward the glen. His hand itched, and when he looked at the bite the imp had inflicted on his palm, he saw his skinwork move down from his arm, swarming over it. The small wound turned black and then vanished.

No one had ever seen how the beast could heal him thus, or they might have parted his head from his shoulders.

“You didnae do the same to my foot when I stepped on that facking urchin,” Shaw muttered. “Aye, I’ll even wager you kept that wound raw for weeks so you might punish me for starving you.”

The ink shifted from his hand back to his arm, where it settled into place and went still.

“I didnae ken you speak with that thing,” a cool voice said, and Nyall stepped out from behind a stone oak, sheathing his dagger as he approached him.

Shaw shrugged. “I didnae ken you’d share your wench’s bed with your fish friend.”

The captain halted, his stern features darkening. “What say you?”

“She’s facking you both, Mistress Parish.” He noted no surprise over his guess, only anger in Nyall’s dark eyes. “Och, mayhap you didnae ken she’d spread her legs for the commander as well as you. Come and drink with–”

Nyall hit him hard enough to knock him down, but then reached to take hold of his tunic and used it to yank him to his feet. “Did you touch her? Did that thing on your arm?”

Any other time Shaw would have fled from the fight his brother wanted, but he suspected the captain needed a brawl. “I stopped her from opening an imp egg and saved her life, you facking eejit. I cannae claim I’ll do the same for you if you dinnae get your hands off me.”

“You and your talk of endless killing, and yet you’d terrify a woman whose done naught but try and keep you away.” Nyall shoved him away. “You’re no’ a man. You’re a coward and a brute.”

Finally he understood.

“You’re in love with her. In love with a wench who’d near broke my jaw before I could greet her once. Who’s even now likely facking your best friend behind your back.” He shook his head. “Fool.”

Thunder boomed over their heads as Nyall drew back his fist, and then a bolt of lightning came down, striking the ground between them.

Chapter Sixteen

In the galley of the captured fishing boat, Lugh thumped a bowl of fish stew in front of Speal, who regarded the three glaring eyes floating in the broth before she looked up at the mortal.

“You couldnae spare them the sight of my belly?” she asked as she picked up her spoon.

“The one-eyed witch claimed you favored such. I but do as I’m told.” He sat down on the bench beside her and rolled out the map they had been using while sailing the waters near Ronalsee. “We’ve searched near all the waters none of mine shall cross. ’Tisnae one sign of your MacMar or their island. If we dinnae find them in the north of the sound–”

“Then you’ve failed me, or lied.” She ate the fish eyes, enjoying the way they popped in her mouth before she reached for a stale oat cake and crumbled it into the stew. “I wonder how mortal eyes taste in pottage, for yours look tasty. Would you stew them with fish or crab?”

“I didnae claim the bastarts occupied these waters,” Lugh said. “You did. The other witches, ’tis something amiss with them of late. They’re forever scratching at their skin and refuse to eat. Aye, and hiss like cats whenever I draw near.”

Speal knew the cause, of course—in another few days the full moon would again rise, and because their last change had been unfulfilling, the Cait Sith had grown even more restless than usual. She had been brooding over what to do to keep her sisters from turning on each other again during the monthly change, but the only solution meant dropping anchor and moving them off the ship onto an island. If she returned to Insii Orc, where the enchantress awaited them, her lack of progress in finding the MacMar might result in another tantrum, one that could see them all slain.

“I need a place where we may spend a night away from the boat,” she finally told the mortal. “Any small island with a few mortals shall do.” She hated the thought of killing more helpless islanders, but in their true forms they became voracious hunters, intent only on chasing down and tearing apart prey. “Mayhap this haven where you sent the others?”

“End me, for I’ll no’ guide you any place for such purpose,” Lugh said, looking even more disgusted now. “Why need you slay more innocents? Cannae you spend a night in peace?”

She turned her head to stare at him for speaking what had been in her mind. “If you wish survive that night, I’ll need lock you away from me and my sisters. Dinnae you reckon by now that we’re beasts in the skins of mortals?”

“That dark thing that beats and eats men, aye, but the rest of you...she’s led you astray,” he said, almost as if he were sorry for her.

Speal wondered if Lugh meant to prod her into ending him. “If you wish save us, then find us an island for a night.” She saw him frown. “You already ken a place, dinnae you?”

“You’ll find no people living there, only red deer and sheep left to graze the glens.” His eyes glinted as he studied the map. “’Twill take a day reach the place, and we’ll need take care anchor a good distance from the shore so we dinnae ground the boat on the tide sands.”